


A Legend in the Baking

by Gallifreysfinest



Series: Domestic Omens [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Baking, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Light Dom/sub, M/M, Slice of Life, Sub Crowley (Good Omens), like a lot of fluff, so fluffy you’ll want to wrap yourself in it on cold winter days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29037882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallifreysfinest/pseuds/Gallifreysfinest
Summary: Crowley teaches his hopeless husband to bake.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Domestic Omens [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130279
Kudos: 24





	A Legend in the Baking

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing good ever comes out of an Instagram call.

“I don’t quite understand how baking of all things is going to help me.” Aziraphale huffed.

Crowley dipped his finger in the powdered sugar, rubbing it on the angel’s nose. “Baking is good for the soul, Angel.”   
  
Aziraphale continued to huff like a disgruntled bird. If Crowley could see his wings he’s sure they’d be ruffled. Baking was, in Crowley’s opinion, going swimmingly. Aziraphale had other opinions. The plan was to bake a simple pie, all the angel had to do was mix the ingredients. Crowley would do the rest. Of course, like most things, baking did not go as planned. “Aziraphale, give me the egg.” Crowley’s voice wavered as he cautiously approached.   
  


Aziraphale had been trying to crack this particular egg for 2 minutes, despite the celestial strength he possessed. When Crowley approached he sighed and handed him the offending egg. “I told you, Crowley I’m simply no good at baking!” The dejected look on his husband’s face was enough to make Crowley want to hunt down whoever made him look that way, and make them listen to Justin Bieber’s greatest hits.   
  


Crowley placed a gentle hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder and kneaded at the tense muscle. Aziraphale relaxed instantly upon the demon’s touch as he placed the unbreakable egg out of harm’s way. The angel let out a soft sound of need, turning around so they stood face to face. Crowley could almost feel the heat radiating from Aziraphale, he leaned in pressing what was meant to be a quick kiss to his lips. A chaste kiss turned into Aziraphale nipping at the demon’s lips, turning them bright red. Soon enough, Crowley was sitting atop the counter, an angel between his legs.   
  
Crowley wanted to say, “You’ll be the death of me,” or “You could put me up here but not crack an egg?” But all that came out was “ngk” as Aziraphale slid to his knees. Soft hands travelled up tight black skinny jeans, finally resting on the fly. The demon panted, keened, and all but begged.   
  


Alas, his efforts only got him a pointed look and a “Patience, dear.” As those soft fingers played with his zipper. Aziraphale finally after what felt like 6,000 years, unbuttoned and pulled the unnecessarily tight jeans down to Crowley’s calves. He tutted at the fact that the demon wasn’t wearing boxers under his jeans. Crowley just shrugged, giving him a bashful smile. 

Warm hands squeezed his thighs as a wet heat enveloped his dick. Crowley threw his head back, as a high pitched moan was ripped out of him. He bucked into the warm heat, Aziraphale only taking him deeper as he did. Suddenly the heat was gone and cold air hit his exposed skin. The bastardly angel smirked at him and ever so slowly pulled his tie from its neatly tied position. The bow tie unraveled, Crowley never taking his eyes off it. He felt rather than saw the soft restraint rub against his wrists as his hands were tied behind his back.   
  


His ribs were caressed gently, leading to his neck, and then finally to his hair. A sharp tug was given, eliciting another high pitched whine. The demon’s dick was throbbing, he could almost feel his heart beat in it. Moving as though he were dealing with a feral dog. Those hands returned to his thighs and once again, wet heat enveloped him. 

The sigh Crowley let out was less than dignified, but he couldn’t bother to care. He ached to run his hands through Aziraphale’s hair, but he knew if he tried he would be met with a slower pace. Hot breath warmed his skin as the angel took him all the way down his throat. Crowley’s eyes widened in...confusion, awe, he didn’t quite know. One hand reached up to pinch his nipple, causing him to cry out.   
  


He began bucking again, which he admitted had to be destroying Aziraphale’s throat. The angel just gripped his thigh harder, nails biting into his pale skin. Principalities were always territorial bastards. He felt his orgasm shoot through him before he could think. Gentle kisses were pressed to his inner thigh, when did Aziraphale move? Along with small nips, destined to bruise. “Well, we better get that pie in the oven before it sets!” Aziraphale bounced on his heels and grinned.

Crowley was dumbstruck, but nonetheless pulled his pants up. He nodded mechanically and set to work on putting the pie in the oven. He felt a gentle kiss be pressed to the side of his neck. “This is quite domestic isn’t it?” Another kiss to his neck.   
  


The demon chuckled, closing the oven and turning around to grab his husband’s hand. “Wouldn’t dream of it any other way.” 


End file.
